Gone
by The-Queen-of-Misery
Summary: "Funny, how quickly the mind forgets the things it cares about most." He heard the voice again. This time, it sounded like her.
1. Chapter 1

Gone

Fatigue filled every bone in his body. His body was bruised and battered. His hair was dirty and full of grime. It didn't even look blonde. His knuckles were bruised and calloused, after being constantly used.

He was so tired he couldn't even move. He couldn't even close his eyes. He didn't know how long he had been lying down on the floor; how long ago he had been dragged back into his cell.

His mind was haunted by green eyes. Green eyes which he had taken the life out of.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been fed; his stomach had stopped rumbling long ago.

He couldn't remember how long he had been here. There was no daylight in his cell. The only light came from a dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling, far above his head. The bulb would usually flicker and turn off. All he ever saw was darkness, until the guards came to get him for another fight. He had stopped counting off the days after it had passed more than a year. He didn't know how long ago that was.

All of his "days" were a blur. With no daylight, he really couldn't keep track when one day ended and another began.

Either way, the routine was always the same. Wake up if he wasn't woken up by the guards. Be taken to the arena if he was fighting. If not, he would stay in his cell. Sometimes he would get food, if the guards were feeling generous. If he was lucky, after a fight, he was taken to the showers and given a towel and a new change of clothes. Then, it was back to his cell until the next fight.

He hated fighting, but staying in his cell for the entire day was more torturous. At least during a fight, he got some glimpse of the outside. He was certain that he would've been driven to insanity if he didn't see the outside world at least once in awhile. At least that way he knew he was still alive; that he wasn't dead. That this wasn't a nightmare; it was his life.

It had been so long since he felt the comforts of his own bed. He couldn't even remember how it felt like to lie down on an actual mattress, instead of the dirt. He couldn't remember the last time he had had an actual meal, with steaming hot food that didn't make him sick.

He couldn't even sleep at night. He was kept awake by wails and shouts of agony. Someone died almost every night. He felt jealous of those who had passed away. They didn't have to go through the torture day after day anymore.

He wished he was one of them. He wished he was dead. He didn't understand why he was still alive; why his body continued to function, albeit slowly.

Every time he felt that he was at the brink of death from hunger, the guards would finally bring him food. If he refused to eat, they would force him to. Or, they would call _HIM_.

He absolutely hated when they called _HIM. HE_ was terror in its purest form. _HE_ was the reason he was here. _HE_ was the one who captured him. _HE_ had the remote to the collar around his neck. _HE_ would press the red button and he would feel pain. Burning pain, as if he was on fire. Never-ending, burning pain. Pain that made him scream till his voice was raw. _HE_ would keep pressing the button until he lost consciousness.

His only hope of peace was throwing a fight. But he couldn't do that. Losing was dying. Here, they fought till death.

Besides, _HE_ would get her. _HE_ would get them. _HE_ promised he would hurt them, if he didn't fight well. And he couldn't let _HIM_ get any of them.

Though, he couldn't even remember who he was fighting to save; who he was trying to keep from danger. He was sure it was something in the food. Some chemical that slowly wiped his memory away.

He tried to recall her, but nothing would come to mind. Sometimes he would remember brunette hair, soft brown eyes, and an angelic laugh, but that was it. He couldn't come up with her name. It was on the tip of his tongue, buried deep inside of his memory. But, it was too much energy to try to find her name. He had to save any and all of his energy to fight.

He could sometimes think of who the others were, if he tried hard enough. The picture of a gray-haired man and a blonde woman would surface in his mind occasionally. Sometimes he would see a flash of red hair or a flash of cheetah print, but that was it.

He wanted to know their names. He knew he knew them from somewhere; but he couldn't remember. He wanted to remember. He wanted to remember her name. He needed to remember.

 _Funny, how quickly the mind forgets the things it cares about most_.

A female voice echoed on the walls of his cell. He slowly and painfully lifted his head up to try to find the location of the voice. However, he saw nothing.

The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't remember why.

He used to think about them all of the time. Picturing their faces helped make the days more bearable. At least he knew they cared about him.

He remembered his first fight; his first murder.

He thought he could move on, but he couldn't. The young man's terrified brown eyes haunted him whenever he closed his eyes. His eyes filled with agony as he let out his dying breath.

Now, after so much time in the arena, every fight tormented him.

If the screaming didn't keep him awake, the nightmares did.

Nightmares of his victims, begging him to take the fatal blow. Begging for his mercy to kill them. If they didn't die in the arena, they would die in the hands of the guards. If he killed them, death would be instant. They wouldn't be tortured.

He screamed her name after the first nightmare. He saw her. She spoke to him.

"You're not a murder." She said, reassuring his deepest fears. Then, the vision of her faded away.

He wasn't a murderer. He was doing this to survive. This wasn't his choice. He was doing this to keep her alive; to protect her.

He remembered the vision of her. What he would do to remember it again. Just her name. All he needed was her name. To survive. To make it through.

He wondered if people even remembered him. If he had been missing long enough to be marked as dead by the police. He wondered if people still wondered about him. If anyone still cared.

He used to see her every time he woke up after a nightmare. It felt as if she was really there. She reassured him that he wasn't a murderer; that he didn't kill those people on purpose.

But, wasn't he?

He was Austin Moon, teen pop sensation turned into a ruthless killer in a fighting arena. For the sake of _HIS_ entertainment.

He could still remember that fateful night when he was captured. He was walking home from being with her. They had spent the night working on a new song. He felt himself being followed, but whenever he turned around there was no one on the street.

As he turned the street corner, one block away from his house, he felt himself being hit with something heavy. His vision instantly went black and all he remembered was searing pain.

When he had woken up, he was in the cell.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to get out of here.

But he had lost hope long ago. People had probably forgotten about him; he had been gone for so long. The world had probably moved on. He was probably a forgotten memory, another young teenage boy with the same dreams as him, probably taking his place in the spotlight.

He wondered if she remembered him. If she even knew him or if she was just a figment of his imagination.

He wanted to recall her name. He needed it. She was his only hope and his hope was deteriorating, just like his strength.

He didn't know how much longer he would be able to last.

He heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor. He hoped they weren't coming for him. It was too soon to go back out there. He could still hear the teenage boy's dying breath. He caused the boy's death. A boy no older than he was. He killed him.

The footsteps stopped right outside of his cell.

He shook his head frantically. No. He wasn't ready.

"Let's go. You're up." The guard said, metal creaking as he opened the cell door.

He felt himself being pulled up, two pairs of rough arms grabbing onto his. He was dragged down the hall. He had no energy to fight against the guards. He had made that mistake before his first fight.

No.

Not again. Not another fight in the same day. He couldn't do it. He couldn't kill again.

He needed her name. He needed her.

The guard pushed him into the waiting hall. Through the barred doors, he saw the immense crowd of burly men filling the arena.

"Please." He said to no one, his voice sounding hoarser and deeper. It was foreign to him. Just like he was.

He wasn't the same person he was before he was captured. He knew that. Murder did that to him. It played with his mind, taunting him, playing with him. Driving him crazy. Keeping him awake at night.

Another guard opened the door from the other side. He was met with a blinding light. He heard the sounds of a crowd cheering. He was pushed into the fighting arena.

"I just need her name."

 _Funny, how quickly the mind forgets the things it cares about most_.

He heard the voice again. This time, it sounded like _her_.

* * *

 **This idea just came to me one day. I finally sat down to write, and this happened. Honestly, I have no words. I'll leave that to you.**

 **~The-Queen-of-Misery**


	2. Chapter 2

**I initially planned for this story to be a one-shot, but I've decided to continue it. I honestly was uncertain about posting it in the first place, but I am very happy with the response that I have received. Ironically, this story has come easily to me. I can't say the same for my other stories, which are on a different fanfiction account.**

 **Thank you. I don't know how long this will be, but my best guess is no more than five chapters.**

* * *

Chapter Two:

The blaring of the alarm clock woke her up from another restless sleep. She rolled to her side and her hand, habitually, shut off the alarm. She rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling blankly. Begrudgingly, she sighed and sat up in her bed. Her eyes glanced at the alarm clock once more, reading the date. She choked back a sob.

Two years. He had been missing two years, today.

She still remembered that morning she found out about his disappearance. She had woken up to her phone ringing. The caller ID had read his mother's number. Mrs. Moon rarely ever called her. Curiously and anxiously, she had picked up the phone.

She regrets ever picking up the call.

"Is Austin with you?" Mrs. Moon's frantic voice had sounded from the other line.

With those four little words, her whole world had crumbled.

They had spent the night writing a song in the practice room of her father's music store. When the clock hit around 11, she decided that the both of them needed to call it a night. Austin had been reluctant to stop; they were almost finished with the song and he wanted it to be done at the end of the night.

She convinced him that they were at a good place. They were nearly done with the bridge, and the song would be complete. He gave in and offered to walk her home. Her house was only a twenty-minute walk from the mall. He lived only a few streets away from her.

Little did she know that that night would be the last time she would ever see him again.

Panic had filled every bone in her body after Mrs. Moon's phone call. She had frantically got dressed and ran out of her house, not even bothering to have breakfast. She had jumped into her father's car and had driven as quickly as she could to the mall. Barely putting the car into park, she had run to her father's store and fumbled with the keys and the stubborn back door. Eventually getting the door open. She ran up the stairs to the practice room, hoping with every bone in her body, that the blonde would be there. That he had gone back there after walking her to her door and that he had fallen asleep.

He wasn't.

The police had searched endlessly and tirelessly, as soon as his parents had reported him missing. They looked at every lead they could find, tracking down any witnesses that spoke up. However, none of the few witnesses offered any help to the search effort. There was no trace of him. It was as if he had completely disappeared off the face of the planet, never to be seen again.

The whole world had been shocked to its core at the blonde's disappearance. Headlines of every big time newspaper read "Teen Pop Sensation Missing Without a Trace."

There was a country-wide search. Of course, he was famous, everyone looked for him. Missing persons posters were plastered seemingly everywhere. Every news channel ran hourly updates on the case. Every and any website posted about the disappearance. Telephone hotlines were set up by the police and advertised everywhere, hoping that someone would speak up.

The search lasted longer than it typically should have, just because Austin was famous. It seemed like the entire world demanded that he be found and anyone he know of his disappearance come out and speak up. The search had even been spread out to other states and even other countries. Everyone wanted him to be found.

No one more than his friends and his family. Mr. and Mrs. Moon appeared on every news channel, begging and pleading for anyone with any information to speak up. They promised not to press any charges, as long as their son was safely returned to them.

She had been dealt the brunt of the shock. She was his best friend, his partner. Her heart was shattered into a million pieces as soon as it was officially announced that he was truly missing. Until that point, she had refused to accept the fact that he was gone. To this day she still didn't believe it.

All eyes were on her. She was the last person who officially claimed to have seen him. The police had instantly ruled her out as a suspect, but that didn't stop the press. Ruthless and heartless journalists and paparazzi constantly heckled her, following her everywhere she went, asking questions about his disappearance and her involvement with it.

That broke her heart even more. How could people even think she would be responsible for Austin's disappearance? He was her best friend. She would never hurt him.

Trish and Dez handled the paparazzi and journalists, pushing them aside and telling them to mind their own business. They were the only ones who were helping her get through it, albeit barely. All three of them were emotional wrecks throughout the ordeal.

Still, her two friends did little to ease how helpless and broken she felt. Her best friend was missing and she could do nothing but wait to see if the police would find anything.

The wait itself was painstaking and unbearable. Waking up each and every day and turning on the news channel, praying and begging to see headlines about the blonde being found. She spent every chance she got at the police station and the Moon residence, waiting and praying with the Moons' for the safe return of their son.

However, after a long, agonizing year with nothing but dead ends, with a heavy heart, the Police Chief had pronounced him officially dead at a news conference. Her already broken heart had shattered even more at the announcement.

Everyone was forced to accept it then. Austin was gone. No one was ready to accept that he was dead, but the police announcement made it official. The ordeal had worn everyone down and the search and effort were proving to be a lost cause. Everyone had lost hope in finding him alive.

On the anniversary of his disappearance, he was officially presumed dead.

The funeral had been a week after the announcement. But was it really a funeral? She didn't see it as one. The service was just to provide closure for the emotional and painful experience. It wasn't even really for Austin. It was for everyone else - his family, friends, and his fans. A day dedicated to his memory and a chance for all of them to say goodbye and finally move on with their lives.

But, she hadn't feel that way. She couldn't. How could they move on? How was that – a funeral – moving on? They were burying an empty casket and digging a grave, for someone who might not even be dead.

He could still be out there, somewhere, wondering if people remembered him. Wondering if people were still looking for him. But, they weren't. They all thought that he was dead.

She had felt numb and empty during the service. She had felt no closure. How could she? She had felt like a part of her was missing. She had lost her best friend and her partner, and now she just had to accept that fact that she would never see him again.

But, she couldn't accept that. How could she? He couldn't be dead. He had to be alive. There had to be a chance that he was. He couldn't be dead. He wouldn't leave them. He wouldn't leave her.

No one really knew if he was dead, but they had all lost hope a long time ago. The chances of him coming back became slimmer and slimmer with each passing day of the search, until eventually everyone had just given up on finding him.

The police reasoned that if he were in fact still alive, he would've been found by then. They had used up all of their resources trying to locate him. They couldn't keep spending time looking for him, when other cases called for their attention. She had understood their reasoning, but it didn't make things any easier.

During the middle of the funeral, she remembered standing up from her seat and walking over to the brown casket. A picture of his smiling face had stared back at her. With a heavy heart and sorrow-filled eyes, she had looked down at the empty coffin.

Seemingly far away, she heard the priest giving a speech about how Austin was in a better place now. She couldn't help but internally scowl at the religious figure. He didn't know that. He didn't know that Austin was actually dead. He couldn't possibly know. For all they knew, he could still be alive, suffering and begging for help. Her help.

That had killed her.

How could she just sit there and accept it? How could she move on without knowing if he was truly okay? He could be alive right now, in unbearably pain. He could be screaming her name, but she would never know.

She couldn't give up on him. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

Tears had streamed down her face and her body had racked in sobs. Within moments, she had felt two pairs of arms wrapping around her protectively. Trish and Dez. Trish had been whispering words of comfort in her ear, trying to calm her down, telling her that everything would be alright. But, Ally hadn't believed her. She couldn't accept that things would be okay. How could they be?

Austin was gone. Nothing could change that.

She had felt her body give up on her, as she dropped to her knees. Trish and Dez had caught her and knelt on either side of her. She had cried uncontrollably, her sobs echoing off the walls of the mortuary.

For months during the search and after the funeral, she cried herself to sleep, each and every night.

A part of her was missing and she would never forget that. She could never recover. She would never be the same.

One day, while she was looking through pictures of her and the blonde, she finally realized that Austin wouldn't want her wallowing her days away with sorrow. He wouldn't want her to cry over him. He would want her to live her life to the fullest. He always had an optimistic approach to everything, always seeing the good, even in the bad. He wanted to enjoy life each and every day. Since he couldn't, she would live for him.

With a heavy heart, she started trying to move on with her life. It was a difficult process. Every little thing reminded him of her.

But soon, instead of crying over his memory, she began to smile. She would think of the good times that they had shared, all of times when they would end up on the floor laughing over some silly thing that Dez said or did, the long nights spent finishing songs.

Still, she never forgot about him. She couldn't. She never stopped thinking about him. She would never give up. She would never lose hope. He was alive. He had to be. She believed that with every bone in her body.

* * *

She walked through the school doors, met with hundreds of pairs of sympathetic eyes. Everyone in the school, the county, the state, the country, and the world knew that today marked the second anniversary of his disappearance.

Keeping her head down, Ally briskly walked through the hallway, before reaching her locker. Everyone in the hall parted, giving her room to walk. The redhead and Latina were already there, by their own lockers. Her locker was in between theirs, right next to his.

Trish smiled sadly at her, as she saw her approach. "Hey." She said.

"Hi." Ally answered quietly, turning all of her attention to opening her locker and taking out the book she needed for her first period class. Her eyes habitually glanced over the locker right next to hers. A smiling picture of the blonde hung on it. The words "Rest in Peace Austin" written below the photograph. The school had dedicated the locker to him as a memorial.

"How are you holding up?" Dez asked, on the other side of her.

She looked up at the redhead. Her eyes giving him the only answer he needed.

"Sorry." He apologized. "Standard question."

"If you want to leave, I'm sure none of our teachers would mind. They would understand." Trish said. "You don't have to be here. None of us do."

She hated this. Them, treating her like some fragile doll made out of china or glass. As if it wasn't already enough that the rest of the world treated her like this, she didn't need her friends doing it. It had been two years after all. Everyone had moved on. Just because she had taken Austin's disappearance the hardest, didn't mean that she wasn't okay.

People would walk on eggshells, whenever the topic of him was brought up around her. It was as if they were all waiting for her to break down. As if they wanted her to.

"It's fine. I want to be here." She said, taking her English book out of her locker. From the corner of her eye, she saw other students watching her warily. She knew they were probably whispering about her.

"Are you sure?" Dez asked, cautiously.

School and music were the only things that brought her joy, since his disappearance. She had always excelled in school; it was her safe haven. A place she knew she belonged. Music was her escape from the world around her.

She had stayed away from music during the search. It reminded her of the blonde and their shared passion for the art. However, music became an escape for her. It let her express herself in a way that only she understood.

She wrote songs for the blonde, keeping them in a safe place until he returned. So he would have new music to perform. She also wrote songs for herself, songs that would never see the light of day. Songs about the pain and darkness clouding her days during the search, songs of the emptiness she felt in her heart each and every day.

"Yes." She shook her head. She needed to be here. "That's what Austin would want." She couldn't stop the quaver in her voice as she said his name.

The whispering seemed to pick up at her mention of his name. More eyes fell on her.

"There's nothing to look at!" Trish yelled in her defense. The wondering eyes quickly turned away.

"You don't have to yell at them." She told the raven-haired girl.

"This is difficult for all of us. All of their gawking isn't helping." Trish reasoned.

"They mean well." Dez spoke up. "They knew Austin, too."

"No, they didn't." Trish snapped. "They didn't know him like we did. We were his best friends, they were all just fans. They didn't know a thing about him."

"They can miss him too, Trish. Austin was a part of all of our lives."

"Stop it." Ally cut in, her voice so loud, she almost sounded like she was yelling.

Trish and Dez closed their mouths, looking at her in surprise.

"Stop referring to him in the past tense. He's still alive. I know he is."

Dez placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ally, you have to move on. You have to let go. I know this is painful for you, but Austin was my best friend. I knew him better than anyone, and I know he wouldn't want us crying over him."

"But he's not dead. I know he isn't." She replied.

"Ally." Trish sighed, placing her hand on the brunette's other shoulder. "You need to move on."

"I have moved on." Ally's voice quavered. "I just know that he's alive somewhere. The police never found anything to prove his death. There's a chance he's still alive somewhere."

"We've been over this before Ally." The redhead spoke softly. "The police have presumed him dead. He would've been found now."

"What if whoever has him doesn't want him to be found?"

"Ally. Y-" Dez started to speak.

"I don't want to hear it." She cut him off. "He's alive. I know he is." She shook her head defiantly, closing her locker just as the bell rang. Without saying another word to either of her friends, she turned on her heels and disappeared into the crowd of students making their way to their classes.

No one believed her now, but one day that all would. She knew it. Austin _was_ alive.

* * *

She was at her locker at the end of the day, putting away her textbook from her last class. It had been a long day, everyone sending her sympathetic glances. Even teachers sent her their sympathy, offering to let her leave class.

She refused. Austin would've wanted her to enjoy her life and enjoy learning, like she had before he disappeared. She was determined to keep her internal promise to him. She had appreciated the sympathy and the condolences, but she didn't want to be treated like broken glass for the rest of her life. Yes, Austin, her best friend, was gone. They may think that he was dead. But, that didn't mean that she was.

After the long day, she couldn't wait to go to his grave. Even though she knew he was alive, she still visited the grave every so often. She needed to talk to him somehow and talking to his grave seemed to be the best way to do that. Somehow, visiting his tombstone made the process of moving on easier.

Suddenly, she heard heavy footsteps running down the hall. Dez ran up to her, out of breath, Trish trailing closely behind him.

Ally looked at the both of them, her heart instantly racing. The redhead and Latina stopped in front of her. She stared at the both of them, a feeling of worry growing inside of her. Addressing the redhead, she asked, "Dez, what happened? Is everything okay?"

Dez shook his head. "They found him, Ally. Austin's alive."

* * *

 **Thank you for all of the support.**

 **~ The-Queen-of-Misery**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am honestly very surprised with the response that I have gotten with this story. I was honestly expecting maybe one review. So, thank you all.**

* * *

Chapter Three

He sighed, trudging up the steps to the worn-down townhouse, with heavy feet. He was more than exhausted after another long day at the café downtown. The pay wasn't the best, but it was the best he could find, given his lack of employment and the fact that he didn't even have a high school diploma.

He had to drop out to support his family, which now only consisted of his younger sister and his dead-beat older brother, who was barely ever home. The responsibility of taking care of his sister had fallen on his shoulders after his parents' death as a result of a tragic car accident two years ago. His older brother should've shouldered the burden, but he turned to drinking and gambling. So, Kevin had taken it upon himself to support his little sister and himself.

"Kevin!" A cheerful voice greeted him, followed by footsteps, as he stepped into the house.

His tired demeanor instantly brightened up at the sight of his younger sister. The sight of her always brought a smile to his face, regardless of the day he had. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Hey kiddo." He smiled, despite himself, and ruffled her hair. "How was your day?"

His sister pulled away from him, smiling. "It was really good. Chrissy and I painted…"

His mind wandered off elsewhere, as he pretended to listen to his sister. "Sounds like fun." He said, before glancing at the sink full of dirty dishes, internally rolling his eyes. Of course, Andrew hadn't even cleared the dishes after he came home the night before. Then again, when did he ever do anything useful around the house? Sighing, Kevin made his way over to the sink and started loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. When he was done, he turned his attention back to his sister.

She was in the makeshift living room, which consisted of a worn-out couch, a dirty carpet, and a broken TV set. The dingy house had seen better days. Fortunately, his parents had managed to pay off the mortgage on the house, so it was officially theirs. Still, the house could use some major renovations, but Kevin couldn't afford them on his paycheck. Besides, almost all of his money went to paying bills and buying groceries.

Lying down on the carpet, his sister was reading a book.

"Hey Mia, are you hungry?" He asked her, knowing full well that she probably hadn't eaten since that morning. He couldn't even afford to give her school lunch or give her money to buy some in the school cafeteria. If she was lucky, sometimes one of her school friends would share part of their lunch with her.

"Yeah." She turned to him, nodding her head, before going back to her book.

Kevin walked over the refrigerator and opened the door. To his dismay, the fridge was practically empty, except for a few beer cans. He had told Andrew to go to the supermarket, but of course, he hadn't. He had probably taken the money and lost it gambling. Kevin held back a disgruntled sigh. He couldn't trust Andrew to do anything.

He took his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans, hoping to find some money to buy take out. He fished out a ten-dollar bill. That would be enough for one pizza pie, which would last them about three days if they rationed it. He would get his next paycheck by then. He made a mental note to himself to pick up some groceries once he did get his paycheck and deposited it in the bank.

"I'll order a pizza." He said, walking over to the phone and dialing the local pizzeria. Once he hung up, he joined his sister in the living room.

"Where's Andrew? When is he going to be home?"

"Soon, kiddo. He'll be home soon. He's just working really hard." Kevin answered. Of course Andrew wasn't really working. He hated lying to Mia, but he knew she wouldn't understand the truth.

Besides, how could he tell her that her older brother, who was supposed to be taking care of them, was too busy throwing away what little money they had on gambling and drinks? Mia was too young to understand. Plus, she looked up to Andrew. Kevin didn't want to break her heart again, after she had just started getting over the death of their parents.

Andrew was the reason he had to quit high school and give up his dreams of becoming a detective. When he was younger, he absolutely adored watching the plethora of detective shows available on TV – from Law & Order to Criminal Minds to NCIS. It had been his childhood dream to become like the main characters and help bring justice to people who couldn't get it themselves. But those dreams flew out the window as soon as their parents died and Andrew turned to drinking and gambling his sorrows away.

Kevin had taken it upon himself to make sure Mia got the opportunities that he couldn't; that she would be able to go to college and actually do something with her life.

Mia fell silent and went back to her homework. Kevin sighed wearily and leaned back into the couch, trying to relax after a long day on his feet. Thankfully, he had the next two days off. His eyes scanned the living room and the adjoining kitchen. His eyes landed on a stack of envelopes on the kitchen table. Kevin stood up and walked over to the mail. Picking up the pile, he went through it. The electricity bill, the water bill, the phone bill, insurance payments. He let out a deep sigh. He would definitely have to ask his boss for more hours. Or find a second job. They couldn't live like this that much longer.

The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of their dinner. Kevin put the mail back on the kitchen table, took out his wallet and opened the door. He thanked the delivery boy, handing him the ten-dollar bill and took the pizza box. He placed the box on the kitchen table and took out two plates from the cupboards. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink, before putting one slice on each plate and setting them down on the table.

"Dinner's ready Mia. Don't forget to clean your hands."

Mia got up from the carpet and ran down the hall. A minute or two later, she joined Kevin at the table. The two of them ate in silence.

"Are you done with your homework?" Kevin asked her, after glancing at the clock. Seven o'clock. Almost time to put her to bed.

"Yeah." His sister nodded her head.

"Good. Get ready for bed and I'll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in."

Mia ran off.

Kevin took their plates and put them in the dishwasher, which was now full. He turned it on, before putting the remaining pizza away into the fridge. Then, he made his way to Mia's room. She was already in her bed, waiting for him expectantly.

"Can you read me a story?" She asked him as soon as he stepped into the room.

Kevin was tired, but he relented. He walked over to the tiny shelf of books on one side of her room. Picking one out at random, he sat down at the edge of her bed and began reading it. Within minutes, Mia was fast asleep. Smiling, Kevin stood up and put the book back. He kissed her head and turned the lights off, before closing the door behind him.

As soon as he did, the front door opened and in stumbled Andrew.

"Kevin!" He all but shouted.

"Keep it down!" Kevin scolded, his voice a hushed whisper. "I just put Mia to bed."

"Is there any food? I'm starving." Andrew made his way to the fridge, opening the door and taking out the box of pizza. "Is this all we have?"

"Yes. We would have more if _someone_ didn't blow all of the money gambling," Kevin glared at his older brother. "I gave you twenty dollars and told you to go to the market today."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to make us some money. I just haven't had any luck." He took a slice of pizza and slumped down on the living room couch.

Kevin continued to glare at him, as he leaned against the living room wall. "You know, you could always just get a job."

"And work for the man? Nah. That's what you're here for."

"That's what I'm here for? I should be in high school Andrew! I could be graduating this year and going to college in the fall! But I'm not. You know why? Because my deadbeat older brother lost basically all of our inheritance money gambling, so I had to go get a job just to keep a roof over our heads and pay all of the bills!"

"You need to calm down, man." Andrew said, finishing off his pizza. He walked over to the fridge and took out a beer can.

Kevin bit his tongue. "What are you doing here anyway? Did you come for more money? Because too bad, I don't have any."

Andrew just ignored him and continued drinking. "Hey, listen. Are you working tomorrow?"

"No. What's it to you?"

"Good. I want to show you something. Rodney showed me this pretty sick place today. It's a money magnet. I think our luck is finally going to turn around."

"Hell no. You are not taking me to another one of your bird-brained fast money schemes. One of us needs to be responsible about our money and clearly that has to be me."

"Trust me on this one Kev. I know we're going to make the big money. I can just feel it."

"What is it this time?" Kevin folded his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes.

"It's a fighting arena. Men fight in this arena to the death and you place bets on whoever you think will win."

"Isn't that illegal?"

Andrew shrugged. "Who cares? Just come on Kev. It'll be fun."

"Watching men kill each other? What are we, back in ancient Rome? No, thanks."

"Please. Just this one time. If you really don't like, then you don't have to come back."

Andrew pleaded. "We haven't had any time to hang out, just brother to brother, you know?"

Kevin scoffed. "Don't give me that bullshit Andrew. If you really cared about me or Mia, you would get a job and stop disappearing for days on end."

"Just come with me. I promise you won't regret it."

"Why do you even want me there? What, do you need my money? I already told you I don't have any, and even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you."

"I bought two tickets and Rodney can't make it tomorrow. I don't want the tickets to go to waste."

Kevin sighed, looking at his brother. He didn't want to go. He would've liked to spend his two days off relaxing. However, he knew he needed to go. He needed to make sure that Andrew didn't bet too much money or something crazy, like the deed to their house. "Fine." He said, giving in. "But I'm only going to make sure that you don't lose all of our money."

* * *

The next afternoon after helping Mia get ready for school and sending her off, Kevin let his brother lead them to the fighting arena. Since they didn't have a car, they had to walk the thirty minutes it took to get to the place. It was in a run-down building, way on the outskirts of town. It was further away from the town than their house was, in its dilapidated neighborhood. The entire building had a bad aura, Just looking at it brought shivers down Kevin's spine. Nevertheless the fact that men had actually died within it.

By the time they got there, crowds of people, all men, were lining up by the entrance. Most of them were old, burly men. Some were people like his brother. A few of them even nodded to his brother in greeting. Kevin rolled his eyes. All of them were they after the same thing – fast money. They all looked sleazy. Feeling uncomfortable, he shoved his hands into his pockets and made sure to pay attention to all of his surroundings. He moved to stand a little closer to his brother. Slowly the lined moved up, until Kevin and Andrew had made it to the front.

Two hefty men stood on either side of the entrance. One of them spoke. "Tickets or cash." Andrew handed them the two tickets. Kevin followed his brother inside, before the both of them were grabbed by their collars and pulled back to the entrance.

"Uh, uh, uh." The man who had collected their tickets said. "That was for seating. You still need to pay the entrance fee. $5 dollars. Gotta pay the King. Cough it up." He held out his hand.

Kevin looked at his brother. Andrew looked pleadingly back at him. Sighing, Kevin took his wallet out of his pocket and fished out the only remaining bill he had - a $5 one - and handed it to the man.

"Enjoy the show." He flashed them a smile.

Andrew quickly walked inside and Kevin didn't hesitate to follow. "Nice going. That was all of the money I had."

"Don't worry Kev. After today, we'll have a lot more." Andrew patted his back.

Kevin rolled his eyes.

Andrew led them down a musky hallway. The only sources of light were dim light bulbs, about every ten feet or so. Even then, it was difficult to see exactly where he was going. The walls were falling, with peeling, lead-ridden paint. Small puddles of water welled in corners and seeped from the walls, creating a strong presence of mold.

Kevin couldn't help but think of how shady the place was. He really hoped his brother knew what he was getting them into, but then again, when did Andrew ever. As they walked, Kevin made sure to look for any emergency exits, in case a situation called for them to escape quickly. Knowing his brother, he probably didn't have any money to pay up if they lost and they would probably have to run out of the arena as soon as the match was over.

His brother stopped shortly and Kevin almost ran into him. They stood in front of two metal doors. A man with a clipboard stood in front of them. "Who are you betting on?" The man asked.

"Whose up?" Andrew asked.

"Jason and Austin." The man said, looking down at his clipboard and jotting something down. "You both betting or just one of you?"

"Just one." Andrew answered. "I'm betting on Austin. I heard he's a fighter."

The man chuckled. "Yeah, that kid definitely is. How much?"

"Twenty dollars." Andrew said, smiling.

The man wrote something down on the clipboard, before ripping a paper off and handing it to Andrew. "Take a seat. Enjoy the show. Oh, and good luck."

Andrew took the paper and walked through the doors. Kevin followed closely behind him. They stepped inside a huge room, set up like a fighting stadium. Most of the seats were already full. Kevin was appalled at how much people had come to watch the fight. He had seen quite a lot waiting outside, but he wasn't expecting this much old men to watch. Did these people have nothing better to do with their lives than watch people fight to the death? What was wrong with them?

"Come on." His brother's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Kevin saw that Andrew was a few feet away from him, motioning to a pair of seats in the front row.

Kevin quickly ran up to him and sat down. He felt completely uncomfortable in the arena. He regretted agreeing to go with his brother. He couldn't watch this.

"Relax." Andrew whispered into his ear. "This is going to be fun."

"How did you knew who to bet on? That Austin kid?" Kevin asked. He really hoped his brother knew what he was doing. They had no money left.

"Rodney saw him fight yesterday day. Said he's a killer. Apparently, he hasn't lost a fight since he got here."

"How long has he been here?"

"About two years I think."

"Two years?! That's crazy! How long has this been going on?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." His brother shrugged.

"So, isn't everyone going to bet on that Austin kid?"

"Nah. Rodney also saw Jason fight. Said Austin's just as good as him. This should be a hard fight. But I really hope Austin wins."

"You know that if he does, you're getting blood money." Kevin deadpanned.

Andrew shrugged. "Money's money. It doesn't matter how you get it."

Kevin didn't bother responding to his brother. Instead, he looked around the arena, if you could even call it that. The arena was about the size of a modern-day high school auditorium. Except, instead of being filled with rows and rows of seats, all angled down towards a stage, bleachers were set up in raised rows, angled down towards the center of the arena. The center was a circular area, of about fifty feet wide. It had a pair of doors on each side and a pair of guards standing by each door. Kevin looked around at the bleachers. The seats were filled with hundreds of money and blood hungry men. All of them were cheering and waiting for the fight to begin. In a space like a balcony, sat one man, smiling cheekily. He was like a mix of the Joker, the Cheshire cat, and Freddy Krueger.

His eyes met Kevin's and his smile grew even wider. He nodded at Kevin before turning his attention back to the center of the arena. His smile brought shivers down Kevin's back. He glanced away and looked around the rest of the arena, his eyes scanning the other members of the audience. He couldn't believe he actually let his brother drag him into this.

Suddenly, the cheering and chanting increased tenfold. Many men were out of their seats, fists pumping in the air, as they looked down towards the center of the arena. Kevin followed their eyes to see that the doors on each side of the arena had finally opened.

The Cheshire man spoke into a microphone. "Welcome. Thank you all for coming. For those of you who don't know me, I am King." His eyes met Kevin's and he flashed him a smile. "I am pleased to announce that for today's match, we will have two crowd favorites. One of them is personally, my very favorite fighter. You all know him. His name is Austin."

The crowd of men went wild. The Cheshire man beamed.

"The other is Jason. I hope you enjoy the show." He turned off the microphone and sat back down in his chair.

From one side a brown-haired boy was dragged was into the arena, assisted by two guards. They pushed him to his knees. From the other side, two guards came in, holding a struggling blonde. If you could even call him blonde. His hair was full of dirt and grime, it almost looked brown. The only way Kevin could tell it was blonde was because of the tips of his hair, that still remained fairly blonde. He wondered when the last time either boy showered was. They were both covered in dirt.

Both pairs of guards kept shoving the boys until they were each about one-third of the way into the fighting ring. They pushed them to their knees. Then, the guards let them go and quickly left the circle. The fight had begun.

Both boys slowly both stood up. Only then did Kevin notice the collars around their necks. What the hell, he thought. They were being treated like dogs.

Kevin couldn't help feel sympathetic for both of them. They were barely thinner than twigs, their tattered shirts hanging limply off of their bodies. Kevin could see their ribs sticking out, from some tears in their shirts. The brown-haired boy's eyes were sunken into his face. Kevin could only assume the same went for the blonde boy.

He wondered how they even got there. Was this by choice? Looking at their appearances, he guessed probably not. He glanced back at the man on the balcony, scowling at how pleased the man looked. He turned back to the center of the arena.

Both boys had each assumed a fighting stance. From his seat, Kevin could only see the face of the brown-haired boy. He looked no older than he was. His heart shattered. How could all of these people watch these boys fight each other? Those boys shouldn't be here. They should be in high school, getting an education.

Kevin thought his situation was bad, but at least he wasn't being forced to kill people.

The brown-haired boy made the first move. He threw a right, round-house punch. The blonde boy ducked skillfully. He probably had more than enough practice, Kevin thought ruefully. He stepped to the side as the brown-haired boy tried to throw another punch. This time, the blonde countered with a right roundhouse kick.

It hit the brown-haired boy squarely on the sides of his ribs. He fell to the ground, but he quickly jumped back onto his feet. The blonde moved his matted hair to one side with his hand. That was when Kevin saw a pair of brown eyes, with golden specks. Familiar brown eyes.

He gasped with recognition.

The blonde boy was Austin Moon. The pop star that had gone missing almost two years ago. He only knew about it because Mia was a huge Austin Moon fan and was absolutely bawling at his disappearance.

He couldn't believe it. The pop star was alive. The police had presumed him dead almost a year ago, but he was very much alive. How was this possible? Had Austin been here the whole time?

"Andrew! Do you know who that is?" Kevin shook his brother's shoulder frantically.

"What?" His brother turned to face him.

"That's Austin Moon! That pop star the Mia was obsessed with! The one who has been missing for two years!"

"Who?" Andrew asked, over the noise of the cheering crowd.

"Austin Moon!"

"Who the hell is that? Who cares! He's winning and that's all that matters." His brother said, turning back to watch the fight.

Kevin looked back at the fight, still not believing his eyes. How could he be the only one who knew who the blonde was? He looked back at King, his hatred for the man only growing. How could he keep Austin and Jason, and whoever else, here, when their families were probably worried sick or grief-stricken, thinking that their sons were dead? This man was a monster.

The sound of a jaw cracking echoed in the arena. Kevin turned his eyes back to the match. Austin was on top of Jason, throwing punches. One of them hit him square in the jaw. Jason moaned in pain. Austin hesitated, one fist hanging in the air.

"Finish him!" The crowd around Kevin roared, especially his brother.

Austin's eyes scanned around the arena.

He looked absolutely terrible. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was gaunt. He looked practically dead. The blonde's eyes finally landed on Kevin. Kevin gasped. The expression in his eyes was absolutely disturbing. An expression of pure sorrow and regret, of pure sadness and helplessness. It broke Kevin's heart. A boy of his age shouldn't look like that.

Austin looked back at the moaning boy below him. Kevin saw him close his eyes and turn his head to the side as he dealt the fatal blow. He was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed the single tear that streamed down the blonde's cheek.

The fight was over. He knew it. He felt Andrew grab his shoulders and shake him back and forth, celebrating the victory.

Austin was pulled off of Jason by two guards, who started dragging him away. All the while, his eyes found Kevin's in the crowd. The golden brown eyes stayed on his until the boy disappeared behind closed metal doors.

Kevin felt numb inside.

* * *

He lay awake that night, not knowing what to do. The police had stopped searching for

Austin about a year ago. But he was very much alive, albeit barely. He had seen the condition of the former pop star with his very own eyes. But, would anyone believe him if he said that the pop star was alive? Probably not. They would think he was crazy. Everyone accepted the fact that he was dead.

But Kevin couldn't just let him stay in that horrible place. The blonde's parents had probably moved on, thinking their son was dead. He wasn't, though. Kevin could only imagine how overjoyed they would be to find out that their son was alive. His friends and his fans would definitely be overjoyed as well.

Where could he go, though? Who could he tell? The hotlines had been disconnected as soon as the police stopped the search.

He could go to the police station. But would they believe him? The police chief would probably think he was crazy or delusional. He would probably be locked away. He couldn't let that happen. Mia depended on him. If he was locked up, she would probably be taken away to some foster home. Kevin couldn't let that happen.

But still, he knew he had to tell the police. Austin's parents deserved to know that he was alive. Kevin knew that if he were in that situation, he would want anyone who knew to speak up.

He didn't want to go to the station and reveal his face, though. Who knows who he would anger by telling the police about the fighting arena. That King man definitely wouldn't be happy. He had said that Austin was his personal favorite.

Kevin didn't want to put his family in danger, but he also didn't want Austin's family to think that he was dead when he wasn't. The inner detective in him knew what the right thing to do was. He _had_ to tell the police. If he didn't, no one else would. Who knew how much longer Austin would survive?

* * *

He sighed, standing at the public telephone a few blocks away from Mia's school. He had just dropped her off half an hour ago. Andrew had gone out with Rodney the night before, celebrating his first successful gamble. Kevin knew he probably wouldn't be back for a few days. Fortunately, he had given Kevin half of the profits, so Kevin could finally go shopping for some food and pay some of their overdue bills. However, before he did that, he had to make an important phone call.

He looked down at the buttons. He had to this. It was the right thing.

Gathering up his last ounce of courage, Kevin dialed the Miami-Dade county police station.

An operator answered. "Hello. This is the Miami-Dade county police station. How may I help you?"

"Hello. I'd like the report the location of a missing person. His name is Austin Moon..."

* * *

 **Thank you for the support. There will probably be only two more chapters. But, it all depends on how much I write in the next one.**

 **~ The-Queen-of-Misery**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

He looked around at the crowd of people going wild around him, fists pumping in the air, cheering and clapping. The boy had won again.

He couldn't help but be pleased.

That boy had proven to be quite valuable; more valuable than he could have ever imagined. He was his golden trophy; his prized possession.

King smiled to himself, as he stood up from his seat of honor. The cheers around him only grew, as he smiled and waved at the enthusiastic crowd, before turning on his heels and exiting the arena through the door behind his seat.

He walked down the secluded hallway, the cheers of the arena gradually turning into a dull buzz behind him. As he entered the main hallway where the fighters were kept, he was approached by George.

"Quite a fight, right Boss?" The younger man said, flashing a crooked smile.

"How much did I make?"

"Fifty thousand." The man said, handing him a hefty stack of dollar bills. "This is only a tenth, Boss. The rest is already in your office."

That brought a smile to his face. Fifty thousand dollars. What a beautiful sum. When he first established the arena, he didn't expect it to be such a success.

He took a generous handful of the money and handed it back to George. "Treat your wife and yourself to something nice, George."

The young man looked absolutely shocked. His mouth was agape, as he looked down at the money in his hands and then back at the man who gave it to him. "Gee, I don't know what to say. Thanks Boss."

"I'm feeling a little generous." King said, smiling back at his associate.

George thanked him profusely once again before heading down the hallway he came, a joyful pep in his step.

King went back on his way to his office. Behind the metal door were another nine piles of money, just like George said there would be. He placed the rest of the money on his desk. He looked at it, feeling quite pleased with himself. He had done well that day.

This definitely proved all of his colleagues wrong. He wasn't a low-life, good-for-nothing thug. He had made something of himself. He owned the most successful underground fighting arena in all of Miami; probably in all of Florida as well.

However, not all of the praise should fall on his shoulders, he noted. After all, he wasn't the one who had done all of the dirty work that day.

"I suppose I should pay my little trophy a visit."

He left his office and headed down the corridors to the cells.

* * *

The boy's cell was empty.

The guard stationed in that part of the corridor spoke to him. "He's in the showers, Boss."

King nodded. That made sense. The boy did need to clean up after that brutal fight. He could wait, he decided. He nodded at the guard to unlock the cell. Once it was open, he stepped inside and leaned on a hidden part of the wall by the cell door.

A few minutes later he heard movement in the corridor. Within a few seconds, the blonde was standing in front of him, being pushed into the cell.

The blonde walked to his makeshift bed and laid down, not noticing King standing in the corner.

"That was quite a fight." He stepped out of his hiding spot.

Startled, the blonde sat up. His eyes turned into daggers as they met his. However, he didn't say a word. After all, he knew the consequences of talking back.

King chuckled. His put his hand in his jacket pocket, his thumb running over the remote.

The boy looked at him warily, his eyes following the movement of his hand.

"Don't worry. I'm in a good mood today." He said, taking a seat on the foot of the bed. The blonde moved further way, his back hitting the wall behind him. "Are you hungry?"

No answer. However, the sound of the boy's grumbling stomach was answer enough.

"What do you want to eat?"

Austin simply continued to glare at him.

"Alright." King raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'll just send you whatever we have in the kitchen, but don't say I didn't offer you something better."

Hazel eyes just stared back at him.

"I came here to thank you, you know? You made me quite a lump sum of money today. A lot of people bet on you."

The blonde shifted in the bed, but didn't say a word.

"I thought you'd like to hear that. You're a celebrity! Isn't that what you wanted? You were one before."

"This isn't the same." The boy finally spoke, his voice hoarse after prolonged disuse. "You know that."

"Isn't it though? Fame is what you define it as. I see fame as being popular. And you are."

"This isn't fame. This is torture." The blonde growled.

"Tsk. Tsk." King shook his head. "I thought you would be happy. Don't you see? Both of us are getting something we want out of this. You are getting to live your life as a celebrity in the world of underground fighting. And me, I'm showing everyone that they were wrong about me. I'm not a failure."

"But you are." Austin hissed.

"You've got quite a mouth, boy. I thought you would've learned by now what the consequences of having a big mouth are." He shoved his hand in his pocket and without hesitation, took out the remote and pressed the single, red button in its center.

The blonde shouted in agony, his body convulsing from the electric shocks being administered by the collar around his neck. After a few seconds, King let go of the button and the boy collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily.

He laughed, smiling ruefully at his prize. He was like a dog; he just had to be trained.

He stood up and started pacing around the cell. "You don't understand what it's like to have everyone always expect nothing of you. You probably had a wonderful childhood, with parents giving you anything and everything that you asked for. Your parents probably supported you and encouraged you to follow your dreams."

He paused, looking up at the single lightbulb illuminating the cell.

"I was always the loser. No one expected anything of me. Not my teachers, not my classmates, and definitely not my parents." He stopped his walking and approached the boy, kneeling down to be eye level with him. "Do you know what it feels like to have everyone you know think that you are a failure and you will never amount to anything? To realize that at such a young age? No." He stood back up. "Of course, you don't. No one really does."

King walked over to the cell door and leaned against it.

"Everything changed when we had to read _Fight Club_ in my senior high school English class. Reading that book, I knew that I had found my true purpose. My calling." He turned back to face Austin, smiling gleefully. "It fascinated me. The idea of grown men fighting. Of people watching them fight. People enjoying the violence, egging it on. And then, I thought, wouldn't it be absolutely genius to have men fight and have others pay to watch them?"

The boy just continued to glare at him.

"There's something primitive about human nature. Humans, we enjoy watching other people get hurt. It's a deep-seeded animalistic urge. You see animals in the animal kingdom fighting for territory, for mates, for food. It's in our blood. Because of the development of society, most of us try to hide that away. Because of society, fighting is considered barbaric and uncivilized. But you know what I say? Why not embrace it? I mean, just look at the Romans. They had it right with the Colosseum and the gladiators."

He grinned.

"You saw those men out there today. They love it! They're not afraid to embrace the joy. But, let me tell you, it was not an easy feat to establish all of this. I had to save up enough money to buy this place, you know. Money like that doesn't come easily. I had to get a job. I worked at a shipping dock. It was one of the few jobs that I could find without having a college degree. Took me quite some time to make enough money, but it has definitely been worth it. Just look at me now, I'm rich!"

He was met with silence.

"But you know, the work didn't end when I finally bought this building. I had to get it started, you know? Find people to work for me, find people to fight, find people to come watch the people fight. And that is not easy. Especially when I lose at least one or two fighters per week. I had to find a way to replace them quickly. To keep replacing them even now."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" The blonde asked.

"So, you can understand your worth, my prize." King petted his head. Austin pushed away. "You really don't know how valuable you are to me." He sighed, stepping away. "I need to tell someone my story. I need someone to understand me. No one really does. But you, you're special. My little pet."

"I'm not your pet."

King chuckled darkly, glancing sideways at the boy. "Aren't you?" He motioned to the expanse of the cell and the collar around the boy's neck.

Austin didn't say a word.

"That's why people get pets, you know. To have someone or something there to just listen to their woes and comfort them. Did you have a pet?"

The blonde slowly shook his head, looking down at the ground.

"That's a shame. But, at least you get to experience the other side of things. Having a pet isn't easy, you know." He went back to the cell door. "You have to care for them, feed them, clean them. It's a lot of work. But, of course you wouldn't know about that. You had a lovely childhood. You got everything you wanted, never having to work a day in your life."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?" King whirled around to face him. "You never had to prove your worth. To prove that you could be someone. You didn't grow up with everyone looking down on you. You had supportive parents, supportive friends, supportive fans. You know, not everyone in the world is as lucky as you are. Some of us will work hard our entire lives and people will still look down upon us. People will never see our worth."

"That isn't my fault." Austin held his gaze.

"I suppose you're right in that sense. You didn't choose the family you were born into. But, you did choose to become the person you are. To pursue a music career. To gain fame. To make a name for yourself."

The blonde looked down at the ground, his expression growing solemn.

King smiled. "See? You're starting to understand now." He sat down on the foot of the bed. "Back to my story. A few of my coworkers at the docks were more than interested to help me with this place. Most of them also knew plenty of people who would be interested in being a part of the arena. They wanted to fight. Of course, I couldn't actually allow them to do that. Most of them have families of their own. I wouldn't want to take them away from their loved ones. That would be too cruel."

The boy glanced at him for a second before returning his gaze to the floor.

"So, I decided on picking up homeless men and bums from out of the streets. No one would mess them or even notice that they were gone, you know? If anything, I would be helping society and ridding them of the burden of taken care of the homeless. I would take care of them, give them food, offer them a place to stay, give them something to do with their lives, you know?"

"What about me?" Austin asked. "I'm not homeless. I hav- had a family. Why am I here?"

"You're a natural fighter Austin. Can't you see it? You've come this far with no fighting experience. That is quite a feat, I must say. I am very impressed. The second I laid eyes on you on television, I knew that I needed you. You belonged here. I had to get my men to get you. You were perfect. Young, agile, strong. I needed someone who would last a long time, to keep the crowds coming."

"You're crazy." The boy hissed.

"Now that's not a very nice way to speak to the man who is feeding you." King said, resting his thumb on the red button. "But, I know you must be tired, so I'm going to let that go. Just this once." He smiled.

Austin looked at him warily. "You took me away from my family, from my friends."

"Did those people really care for you, though? I mean, look at you. You're still here. I'm pretty sure that if they really cared about you, you would've been found by now."

"That's not true. They could still be looking for me."

"It's been almost two years since you disappeared. That's long enough to presume someone dead. Face it Austin, they didn't really care about you. I do. I'm your family."

"No, you're not."

King laughed. "Believe what you want, but deep down, you know it's true."

The blonde looked crestfallen, his eyes falling down to the floor and his shoulders hunching over.

"As I was saying, I was right about you. More so than I could have ever expected. The crowd loves you. You're one of their favorites. You heard them today when you came out. They adore you! Almost all of them are rooting for you to win. You're my little moneymaker." He patted the blonde's head. "You're my little trophy, my little prize."

The boy shook his hand off.

"Getting business was also a tricky part, you know. As I said, most of my coworkers were interested in watching men fight. Many of them brought their friends with them. We had to advertise the arena without getting into the public eye. Fortunately, word about my arena slowly travelled and the crowd gradually grew. People would always come back, bringing friends with them. Now, I have a full arena every day. If only my father could see me now."

King stood up, his hand curling onto a fist. "If only he could see how big of a success I am." He sighed happily. He turned to look at Austin. "Well, I think that's enough story time for today."

He headed over for the cell door. The guard monitoring the door opened it for him. King stepped into the corridor, turning around to look at the blonde as the cell door was locked once again.

"Keep up the good work, my prize." He smiled, before walking away.

* * *

 **Hello! Sorry for the delay in updating. I have finals coming up and I had a little bit of writer's block. When I first published this story, I wasn't expecting to continue it. When I did decide to continue, I wasn't sure if I wanted to give King a backstory. I was planning on leaving that up to your imagination. But, I finally decided to try to give him a believable one. I also tried to let him tell his backstory in a believable way. Let me know how I did.**

 **And, if you have any suggestions, they will be greatly appreciated it.**

 **Also, my apologies for any confusion I may have caused earlier. I posted this chapter last night, but after reading it through, I didn't like how it turned out. So, I rewrote it.**

 **As of right now, I will not write a chapter detailing how the police found Austin. That I** _ **will**_ **leave to your imaginations. The next chapter will detail his family and his friends' reactions to finally seeing him after almost two years. Though, I do not know when I will actually write or post it. My best bet is no later than the end of June.**

 **I was just re-reading this story and this chapter and I have to say I am honestly surprised with myself for coming up with this. Most of my other stories on my old accounts were happy and cheerful, with a small amount of angst or pain. I really don't know what came over me with this story!**

 **I am working on another story at the moment, as well. It is actually a story I posted a while ago on my other account. But I lost interest in it and deleted it.**

 **Recently, though, I've found interest in it again. Unfortunately, I deleted all of the chapters that I had already written, so I have to start from scratch and with the best of my memory. I am not sure if or when I will post that.**

 **~ The Queen of Misery**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

The world freezes around her. For a moment, all of time seems to slow down. Her eyes lock with the blue ones of the redhead before turning to the brown ones of her best friend. It can't be true. No matter how hard she wants it to be true, it can't be.

She has been waiting for this moment for two years. It can't actually be happening.

The redhead, reading her thoughts, gives her a reassuring smile, nodding his head. "It's true. He's alive, Ally. The Moons just called me. The police found him and took him the hospital over an hour ago."

Without a second thought, her feet take off running. She bolts out of the metal doors of the school and turns towards the parking lot.

She hears the sound of two pairs of heavy footsteps behind her.

"Ally, wait!" Trish calls.

She doesn't stop until she reaches her car. Frantically, she searches her book bag for her keys. Letting out a frustrated growl, she throws the bag onto the ground. Falling to her knees, sobs rack her body.

She has been waiting for this day for the past two years. To be reunited with her blonde best friend. She wants to be there when he wakes up. She wants to know if he is okay. Now, her stupid car keys are getting in her way.

"Hey, it's okay." A gentle voice soothes, its owner sitting down next to her.

Ally looks up to see Trish. "I can't find my keys, Trish! I need to get to the hospital. I need to see him, Trish. I need to be there when he wakes up! I need to – I need to see him." She says, through choked sobs.

The Latina smiles at her, holding up a key ring. "You dropped these in the hallway."

She throws her arms around the raven-haired girl and squeezes her tightly. She quickly pulls herself off from the ground, picking up her book bag as well. Taking her car keys from her best friend, she unlocks the car doors.

Trish and Dez, who had been standing by them patiently, climb into the passenger seat and back seat, respectively. She tosses her bookbag in the seat next to Dez, before getting into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Within moments, she is pulling out of the parking lot.

Her mind is on autopilot as she drives to the hospital. It is taking longer than she would've hoped to reach the long, white building in the center of the city. Midday traffic is at its peak, to her dismay.

The car ride to the hospital is filled with tense silence. She keeps her eyes on the road. Trish looks out the window, biting her lip and playing with her hands. Dez is uncharacteristically silent, his nose buried in the screen of his phone. They are all anxious to see the blonde. She felt someone squeeze her hand at a red light. Turning her head, she is met with a reassuring smile from her best friend.

* * *

Finally, she pulls into the parking lot of the hospital. She pulls into the first spot she sees, all but falling out of the car as she frantically opens her door. Trish and Dez climb out just as hurriedly as she does.

Almost forgetting to lock her car behind her, she takes off running towards the entrance of the hospital. The redhead and Latina are hot on her heels.

She bursts through the doors of the emergency room, glancing wildly for anyone who would shed some light as to where the blonde was. Doctors and nurses rush by her, in both directions. She storms towards the information desk, immediately asking the nurse stationed there for any information on her best friend. "My best friend, Austin Moon, he just came in here. Where is he?"

"He came in about a few hours ago." Dez says, stepping up to stand directly besides her.

"What's his room number? He's all of our best friend." Trish asks, from her other side, sounding urgent. All three of them look at the nurse.

"Are you family? I'm sorry, but if you aren't directly related to the patient, I cannot give you that information." The nurse smiles apologetically.

Ally nearly bursts. "What do you mean?" Ally yells. "We're his best friends! He's been missing for two years and the police just found him! We want to see Austin!"

"I'm practically his brother! I've known him since I was born! His parents called me and told us to meet them here." Dez adds.

"Please calm down. There is no need to yell." The nurse answers calmly. "I am sorry, but I am going to have to ask you to sit down and wait."

"Excuse me?" Trish rages, pushing Ally aside and nearly climbing onto the desk. "Listen here," she looks down at the name tag on the pink shirt, " _Patty_." She spits out the name. "You better tell us where Austin's room is or I swear to God I will m-."

Ally intervenes, pushing her best friend gently away from the nurse. "Our," she points to the three of them, "best friend has been missing for the past two years. He has just been found by the police and I am not about to sit back and wait. None us will. We're not asking for much, just his room number. Now, _please_ , just tell us where to go."

"I am very sorry m'am, but I cannot give you that information unless you are family."

"Kids?" She whips her head around quickly, to face the emergency room doors. Austin's parents stand by the swinging doors. She instantly runs from the desk, into Mimi's arms. A million questions race through her mind.

"Have you seen him? How is he? Is he okay?"

Mimi hugs her tightly. "No, sweetheart. We haven't gotten a chance to see him yet. The doctors are still examining him. So far, everything seems to be fine."

Ally pulls away, turning to hug the blonde's father.

"How did they find him?" She hears Trish ask behind her. The Latina and redhead exchange hugs with Austin's parents.

"The police were given an anonymous tip about his location." Mike answers, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist.

"Let's sit down." Mimi speaks. She leads the group to seats. She and her husband sit opposite of Ally, Trish, and Dez.

It was then that Ally finally gets a good look at the appearance of the Moons. Mimi's eyes are red and puffy. It is evident that she been crying. Her hair, which was usually combed back and styled, is unkempt with random strands standing up. Ally realizes she has probably been running her fingers through her hair as she waited or any news from the doctors.

Mike Moon, who was usually the better composed of the too, looks worse for wear. His eyes showed no evidence of crying. However, his clothes are a mess. His dress shirt is wrinkled, missing the tie that usually accompanies it. His dress pants are wrinkled as well. A patch of dirt marrs one of the pant legs.

"What happened to him? Where was he? Do the police know who took him?" Ally questions.

She feels Trish, who was sitting on one side of her, grab her hand and give it a squeeze.

Mimi glances at her husband, the two of them exchanging a solemn look, before turning back to the brunette and her friends.

 _It's bad_. The brunette instantly realizes. Her friends seem to understand that too. Trish squeezes her hand again. The three of them share a pained look of their own.

Part of Ally doesn't want to know what happened to her best friend. If his parents are so hesitant to tell them, it obviously isn't anything pleasant. Fear crawls inside of her as horrifying images flash in her mind. Images of things she doesn't want to think about.

But, she needs to know. She has to know what had happened to him. He had been gone for two years. It's no surprise that bad things had happened to him. She needs to know what he had gone through. He obviously had gone through something traumatic. He would need his family and her friends to rally around him. He would need her.

She couldn't help him if she didn't know all of the details.

"Let's head upstairs. Maybe the doctors are finally done." Mimi speaks up, while rising from her seat.

"What happened to him?" The brunette asks again, sounding urgent though her voice is barely above a whisper.

Ally watches as Mimi looked at Mike, who has also stood up, again. He gives her a reassuring nod.

Mrs. Moon sits back down. She places her hands in her lap. Sighing, she looks up at Ally, Trish, and Dez. Then she looks back at her husband.

Mike sits down once more, taking hold of her hand and facing the teenagers. "The people that took Austin," he swallows, "made him part of an underground fighting ring. According to the police, he was forced to fight for his life; to fight to the death."

"Oh my god." Ally gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth. She looks at Mr. and Mrs. Moon, feeling absolutely terrible. Her gut wrenches painfully. Her heart plummets to the bottom of her chest. She feels utterly sick.

Violent images of the blonde fighting desperately flash across her mind. Him screaming in agony. Blood. Gore. Pain. She cringes.

Poor Austin. Poor Austin. Poor Austin. Poor Austin. The thought keeps circling around in her head.

She is utterly horrified. A glance at the redhead and Latina on either side of her show they are feeling the very same.

Her best friend had been gone for two years. Every day of those two years he had to fight for his life. Never knowing if he would make it to see another day.

She chokes back a sob. Who in their right mind would do something like this?

"H-have the police arrested the people responsible?" She hears Trish ask, her voice quavering. The Latina's hands are curled into fists.

Swallowing her tears, she looks back up at Mike.

"Yes." He nods solemnly. "The man responsible, as well as his suspected partners, have all been detained."

She dissolves into tears, all of her body shaking. She feels multiple pairs of arms around her, trying to comfort her.

Her thoughts travel back to that night. If she hadn't left him. If she hadn't let them stay up that late writing the song. If only she had been there. She could've helped. She finally succumbed to the guilt that had been gnawing at her heart for two years.

"I should've been there." She whispers. "I should've been with him. We came home so late that night. I should've let him stay the night. I shouldn't have let him walk home alone."

"It's not your fault." Mike says, speaking softly. "None of us could've known that this would happen. We just need to be happy that he has finally been found."

He didn't deserve to go through that. He was such a good, kind-hearted person. What if he blamed her for what happened? What if he hated her?

"Austin loves you." Mimi says, as if reading her thoughts. She walks over to the crying brunette. "He wouldn't blame you for any of this. None of us do." Tears stain her cheeks, as she hugs Ally.

Ally nods, continuing to cry softly. Eventually, her crying ceases and her breathing returns to normal. She continues to sniffle occasionally.

"We should head upstairs." Mike speaks, standing up. "Maybe the doctors have some news."

Quietly, the group of five make their way to the elevator and ride up to the fourth floor.

Mike and Mimi lead them through the hallway, to the blonde's room. Just as they reach it, a doctor walks out of the door, a clipboard in his hand.

Looking at him, Ally notes that he is middle-aged. He has dark-brown, almost black hair, and kind, brown eyes. He looks up from the clipboard, smiling sympathetically as his eyes meet those of both Moon parents. He turns to look at the teenagers, giving them a nod in greeting. "You're here. Good. I just about to come downstairs and find you."

"How is everything Dr. Edwards?" Mimi asks. From the corner of her eyes, Ally sees her take hold of her husband's hand.

"He has some bruised knuckles and a several other bruises throughout his body. Miraculously, however, he doesn't seem to have any serious physical ailments. No broken ribs or dislocated joints. He is underweight and underfed though, but that is understandable given his circumstances. A few weeks of eating and he should be alright. Besides that, he seems fine. Although, he does seem to have suffered some memory loss. The blood tests just camr back and he has a lot Bromazepam in his bloodstream. It's a type of benzodiazepine, which can induce memory loss."

Memory loss?

Austin is suffering from memory loss? Did that mean that he might not remember her? Or Trish? Or Dez? Or his parents?

Her heart pangs painfully in her chest.

"Is that an over the counter medication?" Mimi's question pulls Ally out of her thoughts.

"No." Dr. Edwards shakes his head. "Bromazepam can only be prescribed by a doctor. I believe it was added to his food. The man who took your son somehow managed to get a hold of quite a steady supply of Bromazepam. He may have had connections with someone who was able to supply him with such large dosages."

"What kind of memory loss?" Trish asks, taking a step towards the doctor.

"I am not entirely certain of the severity of it, yet. At this moment, it seems that he just has difficulty remembering names. He can recognize faces, but he cannot put a name to them. A psychologist is examining him right now. She may have a deeper understanding as to how severe the memory loss is. She should be done soon."

Mike and Mimi nod solemnly. Ally grabs Trish and Dez's hands and squeezes them. Her eyes look at the redhead and then at the Latina. She tries to blink away the tears threatening to spill.

Austin had suffered so much. Her best friend. He didn't deserve this. She wishes with all her heart that she could've done something to stop his suffering.

"So, he is awake?" Mike questions.

The doctor nods his head. "I will be back to check up on him later."

Ally sees Mimi give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you doctor."

The man gives them a nod and a genuine smile, before walking down the hall.

"Can we see him?" Dez asks.

"We should wait for the psychologist to finish." Mike says, wrapping his arm around Mimi.

A moment later, a young woman in a bright white lab coat steps out of the room, a clipboard tucked in the crook of her elbow. Making eye contact with the Moons, she steps up to them. She tucks a stray strand of dirty blonde hair, behind her ear. Her golden brown eyes glance at the brunette, redhead, and raven-haired girl standing besides the two adults. She gives them a genuine smile, before turning back to face Mr. and Mrs. Moon.

"Hello, you must be the Moons. I am Dr. Roberts. I would just like to express my deepest apologies. I cannot even begin to imagine what you are going through. I also want to express my best wishes. I am happy that your son has been found. I'm sure this has been a very difficult and trying ordeal for all of you."

"Nice to meet you Dr. Roberts. Thank you." Mike replies. "Is Austin okay?"

Dr. Roberts smiles at them. "Your son has suffered through a very traumatic experience. Given his circumstances, I am pleasantly surprised at his mental state. His cognitive and behavioral skills do not seem to be impaired. I will continue to monitor him, to make sure there isn't anything that may come up later. Post-traumatic stress disorder is highly variable in its appearance and symptoms. Every patient has a different experience with PTSD."

Ally feels empty inside.

"I am just letting you know so that you will not be surprised if any symptoms show up later. Our brains are remarkable structures and they try to protect us in times of despair and stress. PTSD is often a response to that. I will recommend at least weekly therapy sessions once he is released from here, just to monitor his progress and to help him cope with reconnecting with society. Besides that, as I am sure Dr. Edwards has already told you, Austin is suffering from some minor memory loss. The good news though, is that it doesn't seem to be a permanent condition. He does know his name and several other basic facts."

"Dr. Edwards said he has difficulty putting names to faces. Does that mean he won't recognize us?" Dez speaks up, his voice quavering.

"There is a possibility that he may. I showed him some of the pictures we were given by you," Dr. Roberts looks at the Moons. "I asked him if he knew who the people were and he said yes. But, when I asked him if he knew your names, he said no."

Ally glances over at Dez, seeing his face fall. Her heart drops to the bottom of her chest again.

"However, you shouldn't be alarmed. This appears only be a temporary condition, like I already said. Perhaps just reconnecting with all of you or seeing you will help him remember all of your names."

"Can we see him Dr. Roberts?" Mimi asks.

"Yes, but I wouldn't try to overwhelm him. Maybe one of two of you at a time."

Mimi nods.

"I will check up on him again tomorrow." Dr. Roberts says, smiling at all of them, before heading down the hallway.

"Mimi and I will go in first." Mike says.

"Of course." Trish replies. Dez nods his head.

The two Moons slowly walk into the room, closing the door behind them. Ally watches them until they are gone.

 _Austin isn't fine. He really wasn't okay; not mentally._

She suddenly finds it very hard to breathe. The bright lights illuminating the hallway are beginning to make her vision swim. She feels her heart beating in her ears, thudding harshly.

"I-I'm going to go to the bathroom." Ally quickly mumbles, before taking off down the hallway.

Her dizziness worsens as she runs into the women's room, collapsing on the floor. She crawls up into a ball, leaning her back against the wall. Her breath comes out in short, heaving pants. Dots circle her vision. Her heart pounds, thumping heavily in her throat.

She can't stop thinking about Austin and what both doctors had said. He has memory loss. He didn't know her name.

She always knew that Austin would be found. However, she never took to consider the fact that he probably wouldn't be the same. He had suffered so much. Who knew if things would ever go back to normal? Who knew if she would ever have her best friend back?

Resting her forehead against her knees, she starts to cry again.

This was all too much to take in.

She can't do it. She had waited for this moment for two years, but now that it had finally come, she couldn't handle it. She is afraid to see the blonde; to see what had happened to him.

But, she needs to. She needs to be strong.

Austin is her best friend. He needs her to be strong. Trish and Dez need her to be strong too. She is the only who continued to believe in his being located. She has to see him. She has to be there.

Standing up shakily, she whirls around to face the bathroom sink. Leaning down against it, she lets her breathing even out. She looks up to see her reflection.

"You can do this. Austin needs you."

After washing her hands and her face, she steels herself, before walking back out into the hallway.

When she reaches the blonde's room, she sees her father standing by the doorway, along with Trish and Dez.

"Dad." She says, immediately running into his arms.

"Oh Ally-cat." Her father hugs her. He holds her close to him for several minutes. He breaks away from her at the sound of the door opening.

Mike and Mimi walk out, smiles of relief lighting up their faces.

"How is he?" Ally walks up to them instantly. Trish and Dez follow closely behind.

"He's fine. He's awake and talking." Mike answers.

"Our baby boy is finally home." Mimi adds, tears filling her eyes. Mike hugs her. "You kids can go inside and see him."

"Dez, you should go first." Trish says.

Nodding and smiling anxiously, the redhead enters the room.

* * *

A little less than a half hour later and it is finally her turn to see the blonde. Both Dez and Trish had walked out of his room, looking a little shaken but relieved to see him alive and well.

Taking a deep breath, she gently turns the knob and stepped into the room.

Instantly, the strong smell of antiseptic and disinfectant hits her nose and she crinkles it. The room is so bright, it hurts her eyes. Off-white paint covers the walls, matching the cold, institutional tile floors. A large window looking out on the outside world takes up half of one of the walls. Two chairs, frayed and torn from years of wear, stand directly next to the window.

She can hear the noises coming from the various machines lining the wall behind his bed. The bed takes up most of the room. A small bedside table, with a phone and a lamp is right next to the bed. Sheets of sterile white cover him and the mattress.

Taking a hesitant step closer to the bed, her breath catches in her throat as she sees him.

Messy hair, filled with dirt and grime, covers his face. His infamous blonde strands look a mousy brown; almost unrecognizable. His face is gaunt and pale, far from the sun-kissed complexion it was before. His eyes are closed, dark circles under them. His chest falls up and down gently as he sleeps peacefully.

Her chest pangs at the thought that this is probably the first time he has really been able to sleep in such a long time.

Unrecognizable, but recognizable at the same time. Austin. Her Austin. She smiles at the same time she wants to cry, looking at his appearance. Thinking about everything that he has been forced to endure over the past two years.

She quietly walks over to one side of the bed. She gently takes her hand in his, her heart skipping a beat. His hand feels so rough and calloused. She notices the bruises surrounding his knuckles and part of his upper body that are exposed by his blanket and the hospital gown, remembering what Dr. Edwards had said. Black, blue, and yellow bruises run up along his arms.

She blinks away a tear. These hands shouldn't be this calloused. They shouldn't be this rough. They shouldn't have been used to fight; they should've been used to strum the guitar or dance across piano keys.

The thing that horrifies her most are the scars on his neck. Branching out like veins on leaves of a fern tree, the scars circle around his entire neck.

 _Lichtenberg marks_. She remembers reading about them in biology. They were caused by lightning strikes or high voltage electrocution. Her heart nearly shatters. _What was wrong with this man? Did he have no heart?_

Her dam breaks and tears start to stream down her face.

Her poor Austin.

She stares at his face, her free hand gently cupping his chin.

She closes her eyes, feeling the sting of her tears. What she would do to go back to that night. To be able to stop this from happening. "I'm so sorry." She whispers.

Sudden movement in the bed besides her causes her to open her eyes. The hand she is holding grips her in response. She gasps, looking into the blonde's face.

Hazel eyes with golden specks stare back at her. Her heart skips a beat. His eyes go wide with recognition.

"Ally." He whispers.

* * *

 **I'm so evil.**

 **That concludes this story. Thank you all so much for the support. I honestly would not have written this far into the story if it weren't for your support and encouragement. Although this story has come to an end, the actual story has not ended. :P**

 **I do not know when I will post or even begin to write a sequel. But, keep a look out for that. For the time being, I will try to work on my stories on my other accounts.**

 **Also, any comments or suggestions for editing are greatly appreciated and will not offend me. I tried to do my research when writing my chapter, but even research can have some loose ends. If anyone does have some corrections, honestly, don't keep them to yourself! I promise I will not be offended.**

 **That being said, thank you all again.**

 **~ The Queen of Misery**


End file.
